Freewriting

Something new is to move forward without glancing back and self-editing through the piece. The most important thing is to drive forward without care to all the mistakes and logic fallacies, just MOVE ON and take the shots as they come when we’re working the back end. Pepper the page with ink and progress, not even looking, just watching the world go by through the window and typing, typing, without regard for content; just GOING. Thinking about Dulles and Reagan! Which one am I to fly into tomorrow? I never know what’s going on in my life and I’ve been incredibly lucky that other have shown enough interest in me to keep me at my appointments because the analysis and consideration never stop and heading out of here will put me in a situation where I HAVE to be present with hands on the levers and dials of a new city. I have to crank and turn and dodge and won’t have time to mess around in my brain, which is just what I need to keep the juices from being recycled up there. That’s what’s going on, I think, is that the same old ideas are beating down the stems in the field, wearing a common and comfortable path through there that SO EASILY becomes a groove, deepens into a rut, and finally matures into a crevasse which I’ve got to claw myself out of at least once a year. The phrase “Lipstick Hierophant” came to mind this morning, and I don’t know why. Also, “Meat Rebellion”, followed by “Meet Rebellion” and “Mete Rebellion”. A twenty-gallon sombrero you could row across a river. Somehow I’m drawn to red pea coats as worn by young women. They catch my eye. This is a mystery to me. When it comes to me, red pea coats are definitely on the menu. Also intriguing is how people tend to look a certain way based on where they’re from. I see an American and I say: That’s an American. I have an overpowering fondness for cowboy boots with squirrelly designs on them. I’d like a pair or three. In South Dakota (boot country) I found a pair of caiman-skin boots worth every dime of the $400 sticker price. I’ve told myself that when I become wealthy enough I’ll own several pairs of cowboy boots and from that point forward take NO CRAP off NOBODY. The boots, if you’re left wondering, foment the mindset and work (WORK) to sustain it. They up your Grit by several degrees of magnitude. They don’t have to have flames on them, if you’re wondering that, either. Why boots? This woman has come into the branch and is sitting across from me. I would look her way to take in her powerful boots but she’s sitting straight-legged and I could easily be taken for a pervert and mind you, an eye twitch from twenty feet would confirm it. I don’t trust myself to look her way, so in keeping her in my periphery I can almost make out the teal and purple designs on those lovely black boots. They are very “gypsy”, and make me think that maybe she’s Japanese. Min the Japanese gypsy with powerful boots and sheer black leggings. She’s a man-eater. Her hair sits defiantly on her shoulders like it would rather be tousled or whipped in the wind. This effect, I believe, is magnified by her boots, which I’m forcing myself not to look at for the sake of her gypsy dignity. Ironically, she’s wearing a red pea coat. Destiny? Is that you, old friend? Where have you been? No, I am not within her league for my lack of real footwear. That’s Real footwear, in case you were wondering, the kind which increase your Grit tenfold. I feel like sometimes my shoes offend the the planet and ought to be burned. I’ll walk barefoot until I can afford Real planet-reverent footwear, boots whose tracks improve the landscape. Making tracks. This is Exodus Week on campus, where the kiddies clear out and head to hot-weather places to imbibe and fornicate. Good for them. It is spring after all, and we all have to frolic in each other’s pants, don’t we? That’s over the line. Barred! Lunch time quickly approaches and these are awfully dangerous things to be sketching on a company computer. Why tempt them, or give them ammunition against me? Why not? Joblessness in a recession; what a nightmare. Can’t hack it. I’d have to do something. Karass. It means something. It means a lot and the people on the fringe are worth snagging when you can. Keep that in mind: Karass.

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